


Hot Cocoa by Any Other Name Wouldn't be as Sweet as Your Face

by lonelystreetlampsindarkrain



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is the barista, Canada makes a cameo as Alfred's impulse control, Fluff, I wrote a coffee shop au and then i didnt post it for a year, M/M, Oneshot, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelystreetlampsindarkrain/pseuds/lonelystreetlampsindarkrain
Summary: Ivan would like to order a hot-chocolate to celebrate his first snowfall in the States. But wait, hot chocolate is not a drink for adults! Maybe the cute barista will help him figure out his order.





	Hot Cocoa by Any Other Name Wouldn't be as Sweet as Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt I found while looking through pinterest. If I ever find the original poster I'll let ya know. Enjoy my first fic!

The sweet ring of the bell as he walked in always reminded Ivan Braginsky of his cat's favorite toy. It was a little purple mouse with the bell on the tail and she played with it endlessly, sometimes into the morning. It had woken him up 18 times since he had started counting. The entrance bell on the coffee shop where he stopped by before work sounded exactly the same, and even though Ivan visibly cringed every time he heard it, he still strolled through 

Today Ivan decided to do a little something special. It was the first snowfall of the year and he was starting to feel the winter spirit, the kind where your nose froze up when you were outside and you would sigh and realize you could see your breath. Stores had their Christmas decorations out, but they had been there since august so that wasn’t really anything new. When he was little and living in Russia, his big sister would wrap herself, his little sister, and him all up in the biggest blanket in the house and they would sit in front of the fireplace and tell them stories while they drank hot chocolate. Stories about Ded Moroz and how "make sure you burn your letters to him, so that he can read the smoke and get you a present on new year's eve".

His sister hadn't come to the United States yet, and his apartment didn’t have a fireplace, but at least he could celebrate the first snowfall with a hot chocolate instead of his usual coffee.

As he waited in line, he began his favorite pastime: Thinking about every single thing that could go wrong, ever. 

What if they made their hot chocolate out of the powdered swiss miss stuff and hot water that tasted like slightly flavorful warm water? What if he stuttered when he was ordering the hot chocolate? What if they misspelled the name on his cup? That probably wouldn’t happen, Ivan was a pretty common name in English. Oh god. What if everyone thought he was weird for ordering hot chocolate? He was a full-fledged, six foot adult man, he couldn’t just order hot chocolate. People already thought his high voice and accent were kind of creepy, what if they arrested him for general creepiness? He was pretty sure the police could do that. The peace was easily disturbed in the city. It would be safer to order normal coffee than to be arrested. 

Wait! 

He could ask the barista to call out a different order! That would spare him from the shame and social ridicule that came with such a childish drink, keeping his chocolate-y secret hidden safe in the opaque coffee cup. A foolproof plot. Now to confront the barista.

This thought process had taken the entire wait to the counter and when Ivan finally got to the conclusion of his predicament and the line, he was briefly surprised by the barista's face. It was a very nice face. Worrying had taken up his entire attention and so it had escaped him how the blond's glasses were a little fogged up from the coffee machine's steam, but still his eyes were such a bright blue they seemed to shine right through the glass and into the world like fairy lights. The nametag on his apron read "Alfred". Alfred's smile was small (and cute), but it reached those bright eyes and Ivan wondered how he could possibly be that energetic about working on a winter Monday morning. Maybe since he worked there, he drank their coffee for free. 

"So, what'll it be?" he asked in a voice that was a little bit too loud. Like listening to a rocket launch while only wearing disposable earplugs from the gas station.

"eh…" Ivan hesitated, because he really wasn't ready for a rocket launch volume paired with a cute barista on Monday and all he wanted was something warm and sweet. "medium hot chocolate," he said in a small voice.

That cute smile grew bigger and Alfred pulled out a cup and marked down his order. "Can I get a name to go with all that sugar?" and then he sneaked a wink at him, looking up from the cup.

On the outside, the Russian said "Ivan", and he was a little red and bashful but he got the name out. On the inside he yelled a long, ear-bleeding "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".  
This luckily did not make it out his lips.

"Alright," and the cheeky barista was about to go make his drink until Ivan yelped out a "WAIT!" that was just a little too loud for a coffee shop. One person looked up from their laptop. All in all, it was a pretty bad decision on Ivan's part, 3/10. But there was no choice but to forge on. He was in too deep to back out now. 

"do you think you could…"

"whaddya need?"

"could you call it out as a black coffee?" Ivan barely whispered.

Alfred looked concernedly at the-- honestly pathetic-- huge man. 

"Why? Are you embarrassed?"

Ivan nodded, looking down at the counter without words. They weren't coming out.

Alfred reached around the register and took cold hands in his own warm ones comfortingly. 

"Don't be embarrassed my guy. You know what will happen when you get that hot chocolate? You'll get a sweet hot cup fulla delicious cocoa and you will drink that goddman thing and your belly will be the warmest and most coziest thing since hugs were discovered."

Ivan was worried that he was attracting attention with how long he was taking to order. His violet eyes looked in distress to the barista's. In contrast, his were narrowed in confidence. There was determination. Determination to get Ivan his hot cocoa AND his self-esteem!

"Now, I'm going to call out a steamin' hot cocoa for Ivan whatever-your-last-name-is, and you will come up for that drink with pride and everyone else in this awesome coffee shop will know in their hearts that Ivan is the coziest gosh-darned man on the planet, with his big fluffy scarf and cute sweater. They will applaud. In their hearts."

Ivan was now thoroughly pep-talked into a confident hot chocolate purchase, and he nodded with his newfound strength at Alfred. Alfred nodded back and Ivan felt that they had made a connection. He paid for the drink and the blond went to go make it.

Ivan sat in one of the stools near the entrance to wait for his drink. A few minutes later, Alfred walked back to the counter and called out in his too loud voice, "HOT CHOCOLATE FOR IVAN BRAGINSKI-" Ivan assumed he was done there, but then he continued, "the coziest, cutest man I have ever seen rock a scarf and a nice-" and then he was cut off from two direction when one of his coworkers (who Ivan swore looked like his mirror image) smacked him on the back of the head. Ivan came to pick up his drink quite flustered.

As he hurried away into the windy outside air, Ivan turned and waved a little goodbye at the assertive barista. Alfred waved back with a pleased and proud grin.

Outside, Ivan looked down at his drink and discovered a ten-digit number scrawled in sharpie on the side of his cup. 

The little swell in his heart warmed him more than the cocoa ever would.


End file.
